Leaving perfection

This is my little back garden at lunchtime today. It's not special as gardens go, but right now the sun is warm and the air fresh and there's a blackbird singing. And I have to leave it and get in the car and drive to Edinburgh.

And yes, it will be warm and sunny there. But I'll not see much of it. I shall be incarcerated in a once-beautiful church that's been rendered even more gloomy than it was by modernisation. I shall try to attend , to forget the sunshine, as Synod deliberates. It may be my last Synod.

Do I hear a faint cheer?